


Valentine’s Day, 11:07pm

by ScenesInMyHead



Category: Bucky Barnes - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sebastian Stan - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, I can write fluff...no really, Pure Fluff Overload, Valentine's Day, fluffy fluff, plums, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 02:17:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9798122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScenesInMyHead/pseuds/ScenesInMyHead
Summary: Time is slipping away as you wait for Bucky to return home from a mission so you can celebrate Valentine’s Day.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was sitting in a creative meeting on Valentine's Day and we were looking at some vintage designs when I spotted something that just screamed for a story. I can’t tell you what it was here but it’s down below ;) So for the next hour I tried to discreetly type out on my phone the story that was running through my head while also trying to pay attention to my coworkers. Be warned that this is a quickie and hasn’t been subjected to my usual weeks and weeks of editing, rewriting and obsessing.

It’s 11:00pm in Budapest.

1:00am in Moscow.

5:00pm in the Avengers compound where you are hunched over a screen tracking the quinjet on radar. 

You’ve been silently staring at the display of vintage world clocks in the control room for hours; lulled by the sweep of the second hands as they circle slowly.

Just ten more minutes you tell yourself. In ten minutes, Bucky will be home.

He had been away on a convert mission with Steven and Tony for over three weeks now, having gone dark the minute they had taken off from the compound.

Twenty one days of zero communication. Five hundred and four hours devoid of Bucky’s voice. Thirty thousand minutes without knowing if the love of your life was alive. You had done the math.  


You breathe in deep to steady your frayed nerves as your hands drop down to your knees to nervously smooth out your dress.  


A smile plays on your lips as you examine the bright red fabric that’s clinging tightly to all of your curves and displaying just the right amount of cleavage that’s sure to draw an approving smile from your boyfriend.  


Normally, you wouldn’t be all dressed up to greet him from a mission, but today was special. It was Valentine’s Day.  


You had been planning the day for weeks in hopes that Bucky would be home for your first Valentine’s Day as a couple. But as the hours ticked away without any sign of the quinjet, your plans for the day began to fall to the wayside. Now all that was left was time for a romantic dinner and what you hoped would be hours of mind-blowing, body numbing ‘dessert’.  


Scenes of Bucky ravaging your body fill your head, making you cross your legs to ease the heat rising from your core. A small gasp rises from your throat as the rough lace of your panties brushes over your clit. You feel your hardening nipples start to strain against the matching lace bra – an impulse purchase that you hope will end up being torn off your body and discarded on the bedroom floor.  


A light flashing on the console snaps you out of your fantasy. The quinjet is coming in for a landing.  


You hurry out to the hanger, your black high heels resonating across the concrete floor, and hold your breath as you watch the rear hatch door open  


“Hello sweetheart,” Tony calls out as he descends from the jet. “What no parade?”  


You roll your eyes and give him a loving punch to his shoulder.  


Following closely behind, Steve lets out a low whistle as his tired blue eyes scan your body appreciatively.  


“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes kiddo,” he exclaims as he hugs you tight. “You are going to knock your boyfriend’s socks off.”  


“That’s not all I’m hoping to get off tonight,” you giggle as you give Cap a kiss on the cheek.  


“Well he’s all yours,” Steve says with a hint of mock exasperation in his voice. “He’s been driving me and Tony up the wall for the entire three weeks.”  


“That punk would not stop talking about you. We were tempted to leave him behind in Moscow.”  


You lower your head to hide the rising blush in your cheeks when the sound of a low, sexy voice behind you makes your heart jump.  


“You two would have been in for quite the ass-kicking from my girl if you had.”  


Spinning around quickly on your heels you see Bucky, leaning wearily against the frame of the hatch door, a bright smile starting to spread across his face.  


You let out a small squeal as Bucky moves swiftly to close the gap between you; your bodies colliding in a sweeping hug as he picks you up and spins you around. Your eyes brimming with tears of relief, you nestle your head in his shoulder and breathe in the scent of sweat and blood.

As he sets you down, you turn your face to his and watch as his piercing blue eyes feverishly scan over your features, as if to recommit them to his memory.  


Tracing his fingers down your jawline, he tilts your chin and brings his lips to your mouth. The kiss is at first soft and tender but as he presses your body tight against him, his mouth begins to move hungrily against yours.  


You thread your fingers through his hair and pull him closer, capturing his moans into your mouth. His tongue sweeps past your lips and settles in for a deep, lasting kiss that radiates to your core.  


Minutes later, you both pull apart with your chests heaving, gasping for air. Bucky brings his forehead down to yours and smiles. You both close your eyes, lost in each other’s tight embrace, and wait for your breathing to steady.  


“I missed you so much doll,” he says, voice cracking with emotion, as his hands roam your body.

You whimper softly when he suddenly pulls away. Without another word, he takes your hand and leads you out of the hanger.  


You both walk in silence towards your shared apartment, trading conversation for lingering glances and stolen kisses.  


Bucky’s mood is all at once somber and brooding, his typical post-mission demeanor that you’ve witnessed throughout your time together and have come to accept.  


You know not to engage him when he’s like this – giving him the time he needs to resolve the struggles in his mind. All you can do is watch helplessly from the sidelines as he wages this internal, solitary war alone; patiently waiting for him to exorcise the demons of his past, triggered by battles of the present.  


Entering the apartment, you gently squeeze his hand in reassurance. As he turns towards you, his eyes quickly flit over your body. You hold your breath when you see a small gleam in his eyes, hoping that your outfit sparks a reminder of the special day. Your heart sinks when he plants a chaste kiss on your cheek and heads for the bathroom. Moments later, you hear a spray of water hitting the shower floor.

Pushing aside your disappointment, you busy yourself with adding the finishing touches to the meal you’ve spent the day preparing. As you light the candles on the romantic table for two you’ve just set, you realize that it’s been over a half an hour since you heard Bucky exiting the shower. You quickly walk to the bedroom to check on him.  


As you open the door, your eyes land on his form, curled up on the bed and fast asleep. A brief moment of anger washes over you but it’s quickly displaced with feelings of guilt.  


After three weeks of risking his life on a grueling and dangerous mission, how could you not expect him to be completely drained and in need of some sleep. You silently scold yourself for behaving selfishly and bring the comforter up to cover his body.  


As you move a stray piece of his damp hair from his forehead and press your lips to his temple, you notice a slightly crumbled piece of paper in his grip.  


Brow furrowed, you gently tug at the paper until it springs free. Your mouth drops open in surprise when you see that it’s a vintage valentine from the forties. You laugh softly at the images of a boy plum kneeling before a girl plum with the caption “I’m plum crazy about you valentine!”  


Your eyes fill with tears as you look tenderly upon the sleeping soldier, your heart bursting with love. You bend down to whisper ‘I love you’ into his ear and place a light kiss on his cheek as not to wake him.

Sighing quietly, you unzip your dress and let it fall to the floor to pool around your heels. As you bend down in just your bra and panties to pick it up, you swear you hear a moan rising from Bucky’s sleeping form. You take a few steps forward, watching his chest rise and fall for a few moments, before turning back to kick off your heels and slip into some sweats. You read your valentine one more time and slip it into the pocket of your hoodie.

Slightly depressed, you plod slowly to the kitchen and fix yourself a plate of food. You stop to blow out the candles on the table and settle in on the couch to eat your dinner in the glow of an old, black and white romantic movie. After a few glasses of champagne, you lie back on the cushions and bring a blanket up to your chin. Clutching your valentine, you look longingly at the onscreen couple engaged in a kiss. Before long, your eyes flutter closed.  


It’s just before 11:00pm when you hear a voice call out your name. You wake up in a confused state, anxiously scanning the darkness for the source. Glancing at the TV, you shake your head and chuckle. You pick up the remote to turn it off when you hear your name again. Bucky.  


Stripping off the blanket, you race to the bedroom and throw open the door expecting to find Bucky in the midst of a nightmare. Instead, you’re met by a small wave of warmth and what seems to be a hundred points of light radiating from the darkness.  


You shake the fog from your brain and focus your eyes. Every surface of the bedroom is covered in lit candles which cast a soft glow on the rose petals scattered on the bed. In the background, you can hear the soft strains of Bucky’s favourite big band composer.  


“Bucky,” you call out tentatively, still not certain if this is just a dream.  


Bucky steps out from the shadows, looking devastatingly handsome in a sharp blue suit and holding a single white rose.  


“Happy Valentine’s Day doll,” he murmurs sweetly as he sweeps you into his arms, dipping you backwards like a scene from a movie. He gives you a wide smile and leans down to kiss you hard.  


After a few moments, he lifts your trembling body up to his chest and watches in amusement as you try to make sense of what is happening.  


“I thought,” you stutter breathlessly, looking around at the scene he has set. “I thought you forgot.”  


“Never,” he whispers as a cheeky grin spreads across his face, clearly pleased with his duplicity.  


“It was so hard to hold myself back from not saying or doing anything that would ruin this surprise,” he confesses. “Especially when you stripped down to your bra and panties.”  


“You looked so sexy,” he purrs, dipping his hands into your sweats to finger the front of your covered mound. “It took every ounce of willpower to keep from throwing you down on the floor and having my way with you.”  


A moan escapes your lips as his fingers graze your clit.  


“Why did you wait so long babe,” you pout as your hands run over the lapels of his suit. “Valentine’s Day is almost over.”  


He tilts his head and smiles. “It wasn’t time yet.”  


“I don’t understand,” you answer with a confused look on your face.  


He takes your hands into his and holds them tightly. You notice that he’s trembling.  


“Do you remember what we did last Valentine’s Day,” he asks, searching your eyes.  


You smile warmly as you remember back to that day. “That was just before we got together. We ate pizza and junk food on the couch all night and watched old movies until dawn.”  


Bucky nods and takes a deep breath. “I had spent months trying to fight back the feelings I had for you.”  


“I didn’t think that someone as beautiful and smart and sexy as you could ever be interested in a man like me.”  


You shake your head in disagreement and lift your hand to tenderly cup his cheek. He leans into your touch.  


“But then you looked at me that night and I saw in your eyes everything I had been searching for my entire life.”  


He takes his phone from his pocket and motions to the time on the screen.  


“And at exactly 11:07pm on Valentine’s Day, I kissed you for the first time.”  


As you watch the time flip to 11:07pm on the screen, out of the corner of your eye, you see Bucky lower himself onto one knee.  


You clasp your hand over your mouth in disbelief as he reaches into the pocket of his suit and pulls out a small, velvet box. Tears begin to roll down your face as he opens the box to reveal an exquisite antique diamond ring.  


“This was my grandmother’s,” he says as he takes it from the box and looks at it wistfully.  


“I know there are better men than me out there,” he states matter-of-factly as he looks deep into your eyes. “Men that are smarter, or richer, or more honourable than me.”  


“But I can promise that you’ll never find another man that loves you more than I love you.”  


“Will you marry me doll?”  


Half crying, half laughing, you shower him with a definitive chorus of ‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’  


With tears running down his face, Bucky slides the ring onto your finger and looks up at your beaming smile as he kisses your hand.  


He rises from his knee to catch you as you fly into his arms.  


“I love you James Buchanan Barnes,” you murmur, brushing away the tears from his cheek. “I will love you until the end of time.”  


Grinning broadly, he lifts you up bridal-style in his arms and carries you to the bed.  


“I’m plum crazy about you too valentine,” he says sweetly with a wink.  


And at exactly 11:11pm, Bucky lowers his lips to yours and kisses you with a passion so fierce, it could stop time.  



End file.
